


The Lighthouse Keeper & The Selkie

by ImperiusRex



Series: PeterFelicia2020 [4]
Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, Spider-Man (Comicverse), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Feels, Blood and Violence, Drama, Drama & Romance, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Horror, Mystery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:14:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25817134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImperiusRex/pseuds/ImperiusRex
Summary: 1890 New York. Peter Parker takes on a job at a lighthouse to provide for his Aunt and himself after his Uncle died. He navigates his new job with the help of a grizzled old sea captain. Mystery, Horror, and Love await him as one night he finds a beautiful woman with pale hair washed up on the shore.
Relationships: Felicia Hardy/Peter Parker, Harry Osborn & Peter Parker, May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, Namor McKenzie & Peter Parker
Series: PeterFelicia2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1862440
Comments: 3
Kudos: 13
Collections: PeterFelicia Week 2020





	The Lighthouse Keeper & The Selkie

New York City, November of 1890

The streets of New York were never quiet, they often rang with the sounds of people walking, selling their wares, bustling from here to there. The sounds of horses in their daily work, pulling carriages and carts. The newer sounds of motor cars as they raced around, clinking and clanking, belching smoke and blaring their horns at the horses whom they startled. Drivers and pedestrians alike yelled at each other while others ignored them and went on their way. Beggars on the street shook their cups, roving gangs of pick pockets were a terror to any one who was stupid enough to not pay attention to their surroundings. High and Low class all moved through the city and the world slowly turned on as day passed onto the night.

Nights were hardly quieter, the sun may have fled but the streets were lit with new fangled electric lights, and with a different type of people. Shady people who moved in the shadows, women and men who sold different kinds of wares. Midnight factory workers took over from the day shift, and in the very early hours of the new day Peter Parker slips out of bed. He knows every squeaky floorboard in his aunt and uncle’s home, he steps around them as the changes into the warmest clothes he owns; his undergarments, light brown trousers, two pairs of thick socks, and a grey sweater that his aunt had knit for him last winter. Peter pulls on his thicker wool jacket, it was a navy color and it was worn in some areas especially on the elbows. The jacket was a bit too large for him as it had belonged to his Uncle Ben before his uncle had passed two years ago when Peter was seventeen. He hadn’t wanted to wear it at first but there really hadn’t been any choice since Peter had outgrown his own jacket and they didn’t have enough money for materials for a new one. It still smelled of Ben’s pipe smoke, sometimes Peter would bury himself in the coat just to smell it, and remember days long past when his uncle would trudge home after a long day at the factory, and slump into his chair by the stove. Warming himself by the fire crackling within as Aunt May fussed over him. Lighting his pipe as she bustled off to get his supper, the glow of the tobacco burning as Uncle Ben smoked, letting out clouds as young Peter watched from his bedroom door. Uncle Ben would cock his head and wink over at him, gesturing for him to come over, Peter stole glances at his aunt as he came over. She would want him in bed but she turned a blind eye as he clambered onto Ben’s lap.

His uncle may have been bone tired from his day’s work but he always had enough energy to blow smoke rings for his nephew, and tell him humorous stories of his co workers or of fantastical tales, stories of wolves, clever boys and girls, sea monsters and gods as he ate his supper. The old memories of his aunt knitting in her rocking chair as Ben’s storytelling finally put Peter to sleep. Peter may not have been Ben and May’s blood child but he was theirs in every way else. His own parents had died when he was too young to remember them and his aunt and uncle had taken him in rather than let him go to the orphanage. After his uncle died, Peter and May were crushed. The details surrounding his death were suspicious but the police were no help, and though Peter and May knew Ben would not have killed himself they lacked the money to bribe the cops into looking into what happened. 

Peter shakes the thoughts of the past few hard years of him taking on extra work where he could find it to support him and his aunt, as well as saving some so he could find out what really happened to Ben. He grabs his satchel, and closes the door to his small room, it only had enough room for his cot, and a set of wooden drawers. 

“Peter, are you off so soon?”

May Parker was a woman not quite in her twilight years but getting there. She seemed more dilapidated after her husbands death. Peter finds her sitting in her usual rocking chair in the kitchen area of their small residence in New York. He would have thought she would still be asleep. She was already dressed for the day in her dress, and bonnet that kept her grey hair wrapped up tight. Her brooch, the second piece of jewelry she owned other than her ring, was holding her shawl over her shoulders. Her small glasses perched precariously on her nose.

“Harry is picking me up, and the ship leaves soon. Have you gotten any sleep Aunt?”

She comes to her feet, and carries a scarf in her hand. “I nodded off for a while,” May says as her wrinkled hands wrapped warm grey scarf around Peter’s neck, “finished this one just in time too.” 

May hands him a small bundle of food to take with Peter which he puts into his bag. Then his aunt fusses over him, checking his coat is properly buttoned. She wanted him to be warm when he set out into the cold morning air even though there was hardly any difference since their apartment could get just as cold without a fire going. The landlord did the bare minimum to keep things together. Meanwhile their building were crammed full of people, sometimes ten to twenty five to an apartment. They worked sewing clothes in sweatshop conditions, and their landlord made money off their cheap labor. He had been trying to move more immigrants into Peter and May’s apartment after Ben’s death, but that stopped after Peter had mentioned this to Harry. Peter suspected Harry had something to do with it, as the son of one of the wealthiest men in New York he would have the means to do so. 

May stops fussing, and stands back to look at him, making sure everything was to her satisfaction, “I wish you would reconsider Peter, you’ve never been to sea and can’t swim. What if something-”

“Hey,” Peter stops her, and gently grasps her chin to tilt her head upwards, her eyes shone with unshod tears at the thought of her boy going so away for months at a time, “I’ll be alright, I won’t be swimming anyways just sitting in a house and minding the place. It’s easy money and we need it.”

May pressed her lips together, she didn’t like to talk about money, she and Ben had done their best with what they had and it was unfair that the burden has fallen on Peter’s shoulders. At first Peter had wanted to go to the factory, and had brought the subject up after the funeral, but she had put her foot down. He would not spend an instant in any of those horrible factories, Ben had spent his life working there and she would be damned if Peter wasted his life there too. They never had enough money but Ben took as many hours as he could and May sewed. Taking on a child when they couldn't have one of their own was a blessing. May tried to keep Peter in the dark, but the boy was too smart, and he knew May couldn't keep up with sewing orders as quickly as the younger women in the buildings could. Peter had been working whatever jobs he could since Ben's death, going against his aunt's wishes to continue his schooling, but he wasn't always picked for jobs.

“I’ve already gotten and advance on my wages, Harry said he’d bring it over for you, and if you need anything to write to him.”

"Harry’s a good boy, but his father-”

“I know, I know. Osborn is a shameless monster profiting off the backs of good hard working people and poor children," Peter recites often heard words, "but he has the biggest factories and the biggest ships bringing in the cargo. Harry managed to get me this light keeper job and its our best chance of making enough for winter. Just promise me you won't do anything foolish while I'm gone?"

May sighed and smiles a bit, "You know I wont stop protesting, but I promise to be careful. After all who else do you have to cook for you when you return?"

"Are you saying my cooking skills are horrible?" He teased.

"I'm saying only you, Peter, could make Rugelach taste bad." Her teasing and smile was light as they hugged. The unholy sound of a car honking startled them both out of the hug. Peter walks over to the small window and looks down at the street where a fancy automobile was waiting.

"It's Harry, I need to leave."

Peter picks up his bag and May says, "Peter... be careful. whatever happens you come back home. Do you hear me? Come back home.” May’s hands gripped his arm tight, there was still enough strength in those old bones Peter thinks as he takes one more look at Aunt May’s face, she was worried, and he gives her a smile hoping to ease her. “I will, I promise.”

Down on the street Peter waves one last time up at May who was watching through the window before hopping into the car. Harry Osborn was a sickly looking fellow, not to say he was ill but his complexion was pale, and though his clothes were of the highest quality they always seemed messy. Today Harry wore a warm leather jacket, with a scarf and driving goggles. The young man was about Peter's age. He always spoke softly and twitched often, as though he was expecting a cane whipping to occur at any second. Peter had his suspicions about Norman Osborn and how he dealt with people, though the factory owner seemed polite and well mannered in public, the other face he wore dealing with those below him in social status was quite terrifying. His Uncle Ben and Aunt May often spoke of his cruelty and Harry sometimes made off hand remarks about his father, and it doesn't take a genius to know Osborn was a monster. Harry pulls the motor car into traffic and Peter is a bit excited, after living and working in the same city his whole life he was finally going out to somewhere new. Riding along in this fancy new car felt like he was embarking on a new adventure.

"Thank you again Harry, for this job."

Harry nods his head quickly, his voice shakes with the motion of the car, "It's no trouble. Father usually has a say in who gets assigned to the lighthouse since he has lots of important cargo always coming in and the dock master is in his pocket. I'm just glad I found some way to repay you since you won't accept my money."

Peter grips the side of the car as Harry madly cuts before a horse and work cart, its owner yelling obscenities at them as they passed. The two boys had met when they were younger, Peter had gone to the factory were Ben worked and that same day Harry had been taken there by his father. The rich boy had wandered off and nearly fallen into some machinery but Peter had caught him and yelled for help, his uncle was quick to aid them. Since then they had been friends, even though Harry's father did not approve.

They arrived at the docks where a small ship that was mainly used for fishing was waiting to cast off. Harry brings the automobile to a screeching halt but the braking sound was lost in the din of the dock workers bustling about, getting ready to leave with the tide. The Dock Master greets Harry warmly and Peter thought if his nose was any further up Harry's ass then he could tell what Harry had for breakfast. Harry walks with Peter to the boat.

"This boat will get you to the island, you'll be greeted there by a Captain McKenzie, he's your senior in this job and will teach you what you need to know. There are fresh supplies being sent along with you too. A boat will return next month with more supplies. Don't let McKenzie give you rough time, he's a retired old sea captain and hard company. Last man left the job because he had a nervous break. Rumor on the docks is that McKenzie infected him with his madness." Harry said as they stood by the ship that was dwarfed by other larger ships.

"Is McKenzie mad?"

Harry moved his goggles off his eyes to rest them on his head, a soft smile on his lips as he joked, "Living out there on a rock all time? I think you have to be a little mad to do that."

Peter chuckles to hide his nerves then nods and clasps Harry's hand, "You'll watch over Aunt May won't you Harry?"

Harry grips Peter's in a tight shake, "I will. Though it will go a bit easier if she doesn't keep picketing and protesting with the women's group of hers outside my father's business."

They both share a laugh because they knew no force on earth could move May to do anything she didn't want to do.

"See you in a few months Peter."

"See you Harry."

Peter walks up the shirt deck to the boat and it takes off. The two friends stand watch each other as they both become smaller and smaller as the boat goes out to sea. Peter feels a sudden chill as a sharp cold wind hits him. He goes to sit down among the cargo out of the wind. The deck of the boat is not large and he can see the captain in the small steering house guiding the boat. The man ignores him and Peter isn't too fussed by that as he takes out a small bundle of travel food his aunt had left in his satchel. Biting into the bread he realizes that this will be the last food he has from his aunt in a long time. All the excitement of adventure is now tainted with the feeling of missing his family even though he knew he would see May again soon he couldn't help but worry.

**Author's Note:**

> More Info:  
> \- Rugelach is a Jewish Dessert  
> \- Automobiles were invented in 1886  
> \- Electric lights were invented in 1879  
> \- Child Labor laws would not be passed until the 1990's after a photographer shared photos he had taken of children working in factories. Though there was protests happening before, it gained more traction after the photos. However I wrote May as being one of the protesters as I don't think May is a character who would stand idly by while others are suffering. 
> 
> Comments and Kudos are always appreciated!


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